it’s cute how my eyes chase after his face
how it is the only thing can be defined by them
and when our eyes accidentally met
they create such affection that can't be helped
but me and he can never be we
cause our faith puts too many brakes on our hearts
that might as well breaks them apart

A nice ballad so nostalgic
Emotions lingers very deep
Even angels’ listens and weep
Of an untold tale so tragic
An olden song tells a story
Of promises and loyalty

A gang’s promise to a real friend
Whose loyal still 50 years waiting
Until the gang’s last breathe, they sing
This song hoping to reach their friend
In land sailors tell about this song
At sea pirates enjoy this song

Listen to it you’ll laugh and cry
It connects your past and present
You feel the lost but not resent
After a storm the sun will rise high
Through golden days and silver waves
Promises are keep and days are save
And remember to hum the lyrics
For a one fine day.

Darah
Biasanya keluar rumah
Saat tengah malam
Sambil menangis
Hanya
Untuk bermandikan
Seseguk amis

Setelah itu,
Ia lanjut merajut
Duka
Atas air maut
Yang tak kunjung jatuh
Darinya

Sama,

Suaramu
Terdengar kala malam
Terisak-isak perih
Dan masih berbau darah
Tapi setelah kuratapi
Sekarang makin legam

Lagi-lagi
Suaramu dibebani
Pagi yang merekah-rekah
Dan pada saat selalu saja,
Ia akan tergesa membisu basi
Menunggu sambutan gulita

Keduanya tidak sadar
Bahwa
Mereka saling
Beradu pekat

Suaramu tapi
Masih percuma
Alunannya mengais pedih
Langkahnya meringkuk mati
Seolah tak tahu
Terus tanya
Siapakah tuannya

Mungkin
Ternyata
Memang bukan kamu

Dan di saat
seperti ini
Gelap biasanya
Keluar terbahak
Terbatuk
Tertatih meracau rindu

Kalau ia lumpuh
Dan tak dapat lagi menghentak
Suara liar yang kerap
Bersenandung pedih
Mungkin ini sekedar hantumu
Menyanyi
Main-main dengan duka malamku

If your eyes catched for
gorgeous woman, or stunning man
Worshipped them not
But Thank God for created
them so well.

Your absence is nothing
but a reminder
of your missing presence.

A little note telling me
that you're never coming back.
A soft whisper in my ear,
fingers running through my hair,
burning lips on cold skin--
meticulously painting the night sky
in colors unknown to man.

It would have been beautiful,
this thing we used to have.
Except it's now gone,
and all that's left
are bitter hearts and sad poems.